


Thank you

by Zimushka



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), A Nightmare on Elm Street - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 00:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16800256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zimushka/pseuds/Zimushka
Summary: There was actually some bitch dreaming about dancing to soft piano music. How pathetic.





	Thank you

What a fucking cheesy piece of trash!  
Freddy could not believe what he saw: there was actually some bitch dreaming about dancing to soft piano music. He halted to take a closer look, and the moment he focused on her dream everything went from blurry and undefined impressions to a clear and precisely defined depiction.  
Had there before been feelings of swaying gently and a vague sense of movement, so was there now pronounced steps and figures of slow waltz. 

She was dreaming of wearing a gown of some sort, that faded from black at the top to gray at the seams, with a shit ton of rhinestones all over the front of the long sleeved dress. By far the weirdest asset about this was the ribbons hanging off from her wrists. What the fuck were those supposed to be good for?!  
Freddy just could not wrap his head around what he was seeing. Who in their right fucking mind would even wear something like this? 

She was floating over the floor in wide, soft steps, and the full seam and ribbons of the dress were sent fluttering as she turned. In the arms of some faceless asshole in a black tailcoat she danced and twirled with her eyes closed.  
The sickly sweet display of romance nearly made Freddy gag.

She was not even young enough to somehow justify this sappy bullshit with teenage vanity and yearning for attention. He estimated her age and took a guess at early thirties.  
How fucking pathetic had her life to be that she dreamed about this?  
Dance she could, yes, and rather well at that; but she had gone to the dream world, for fuck's sake, where anything could happen, and yet, she chose this trashy assault on her own dignity?  
Prancing around in a fancy dress while spending time with a guy who did not even have a fucking face. Really? What a disgrace.

Time to crash their private party … 

Within seconds, Freddy himself had taken the place of her dancing partner and he chuckled as the chick glanced up at him in all his repugnant glory. Freddy knew about the sight he made – calling him an ugly bastard did not even come close. Usually, that was very helpful; and this time was no exception.  
Her eyes grew wide and her mouth hung agape. A sharp inhale was the only reaction she could muster.

"Welcome to my world, dollface", Freddy purred as he led her into another turn and showed his pointy, yellow teeth in his most disgusting grin. "Way to kill the mood, ain't it?"

He had expected her to scream at the top of her lungs, to flinch and scuttle away or maybe even hit him. Others had been quite creative with their reactions so far – maybe she could be brave or witty. Those always were the most entertaining ones.  
Yet, all she did was looking at him, taking another natural turn then a reverse turn and a twist turn right at his side and pivoting around him with ease.  
She was looking at him her expression blank and doe-eyed. Not doing anything else, not displaying any kind of emotion he could have used to his advantage. If he looked closely, he could find a hint of wonder and confusion.  
How disappointing. She was not funny or feisty – but probably goddamn retarded.

"So, this is your doing?", she asked still not pulling away, still staying close to him. Even tough he intentionally scratched the bare white skin between her shoulders with his clawed hand deep enough to draw blood.  
(Trying to get her head in the game and a first scream out of her, but she did not even seem to notice.)

"Aint cha a smart one!"  
Still grinning despite the underwhelming start of this little game, Freddy took a few steps back taking her with him and pivoting right through a mirrored wall of the ballroom she had imagined – her hips seemingly glued to his as they twirled – and suddenly, they stood upon nothing but a metal catwalk. Only one inch of metal grid was separating them from the fall.  
Beneath them was a drop of at least ten feet: and then came the glistening and hissing surface of an enormous boiler with simmering water, and other hulking machinery lurking in the shadows like dormant beasts.

He felt the trembling of her hands on his shoulder and his own hand. Delicate, pretty hands she had. It would be a pleasure to mangle them. With a low chuckle and still not letting the music fade out quite yet, he forced her into a dip right next to the rail that was creaking and squeaking under their combined weight.  
On pure instinct (as he guessed), she clung on to him as to not fall. He noticed the fear in her eyes and hummed with pleasure. Now, at least she was not too stupid to be afraid.  
(That had happened before, too. Poor moron had died in utter bewilderment. It had been so unsatisfying … )

Freddy pushed her down further seeking to hurt her – just a tiny-little bit. A sharp hiss poured from her lips, as she sliced her own back open by giving into his pressure and ending up pressing against his claws. Her reaction was to scramble upwards again, closer to his face. Mere inches parted her forehead and the brim of his fedora.  
Freddy began enjoying himself. He would save the real pain for later. Or maybe he would make it quick and dirty. So many options … 

Her hands had locked behind his neck for support as the only other option were the groaning, rusty rail and the four razor sharp blades of his glove.  
Said rail now dug into the small of her back and her upper body hung freely right above the boiling hot water. Steam swirled around them dampened her hair and both their clothes. Should he just throw her down there and listen to her screams? Huh, maybe, maybe not.  
It would just take a step back on his part and light push, and she would loose her balance.

As if she had read his mind, she quickly wrapped one of her legs around his hip to avoid falling to her painful death as her arms began to tremble from the strain of holding herself up. She was so close that he could smell her minty breath.  
So she had brushed her teeth before going to sleep. What a good girl.  
Should he punch those perfect white teeth out, pull them out or make them fall out on their own?

Freddy stared into her steel gray eyes and thought about ways to make her more scared. Was she one for bugs and insects? Cutting? Blood? Some teleportation and chasing? Transfiguration?  
He had not bothered to find out anything about her before he had decided to invade her dream.  
Well, what could there possibly be – 

"Thank you!", she suddenly blurted out still holding onto him, still pressing against his body and her leg still wrapped around him bringing them even closer together.

"The fuck?!", he growled and yanked her back up, ignoring her pained sound at that – the music was still allowed to play faintly, but it became more and more distorted and sinister as his irritation and anger built.  
"Thank you!", she repeated and ducked down hastily when he led her into a chassé that would have smashed her head right into a pipe had it not been for her quick reaction.

"What for, bitch?!"  
"For this dream. It's the nicest I've had in while."  
"Don't you know what they say about premature celebrations?"  
"No matter what you may still have up your sleeve, I – urgh", her words were cut off, when Freddy hauled her around in an increasingly harsh manner. 

Dancing they still were on the metal catwalk whose rail had gaps, twirling in between searing hot pipes that spit steam. Did he intend to lead her backwards into these sharp rims of various machines or the pointed ends of busted, broken pipes? Or was it an accident? Anyway, the result was only scratches and scrapes …  
Turn, quick change of direction, chassé and impetus. Another dip. Her upper body and throat on display for him as if begging to be sliced up.

"You think 'tis just a dream?", he gnarled, bringing his right hand in front of her face and letting the dim orange light reflect on the sharpened blades.  
She threw a nervous glance to the blades and then looked right back into his eyes. "Absolutely."  
"Then whyyy can I do this to you and it hurts?", he leered and caressed her cheek.

She flinched and became stiff in his arms, letting out a cry and then gritting her teeth. The soft flesh parted and spit out scarlet. Freddy watched the hurt in her eyes and chuckled lowly. If he had only applied some pressure, her face would now be split to the bone.  
Oh! He could skin her! What a wonderful idea! Just peeling that pretty light and soft skin off in strips.  
"You said it's your world – so you probably can do just about anything. But when I wake up - "  
"Oh, don't ya worry, Missy Know-it-all, you ain't gonna wake up", he hissed and pulled her up from the dip. "Or is this like any other run-of-the-mill nightmare you have ever had? That would be a serious insult to my abilities, you know … "

The way her face twitched, her eyes became even more wide and how she struggled for her breath was beautiful. She believed him. And now she finally was afraid enough.  
Freddy smirked, taking her for an overturned spin, feeling her heartbeat as she was pressed into his body. Her heart beat quickly.

The music died off in a screeching noise, and he stopped in his movement so suddenly she nearly tripped.

When she had regained her balance and looked up at him once more her eyes were wet and her face had paled even further.  
Freddy bared his teeth and let the claws on his hand fan out as if he were a peacock exposing his plumage. He pulled her closer roughly, and displayed his claws once again, so she could see the faint shimmer of the freshly sharpened and carefully ground edges. Now, she was going to scream. To cry. To beg.  
Perchance, she would even try and run.  
Oh, he hoped she would run. The chase was the most fun part of it, after all. And tearing that silly dress of hers apart piece by piece would just be the icing on the cake. However, seeing her so terribly frightened that she could not even move a muscle was not bad either.

They stood a moment in silence. Blood trickled down from her cut cheek and other scratches and superficial cuts. Her silky black gown was dirty and damp from the rusty metal and steam around them. Her hair resembled a bird's nest and she was shaking like a leaf.  
So much for that nifty dream of hers, all glorifying herself and feeling oh-so-pretty in that pretentious, pompous dress.  
Served her right.

But how to kill her?  
Ah, fuck it. He would just slit her throat and be done with it. Invading her dream had not even been planned. He still had other shit to do.  
Freddy sneered. "Any last words, bitch?"

Instead of answering, she lunged at him wrapping her arms around his neck in a – a hug? Freddy just stood there. Shell-shocked. No one hugged him. Ever. Had he even been hugged before?  
He could not remember.

"Thank you", she breathed into his ear in between little sobs.  
There was something soft. On his face.  
He could feel her lips on his skin. On this ugly burnt mess of a skin he called his own. It was her lips grazing his jaw, caressing his cheek and pressing a gentle, chaste kiss on that very spot.  
"I don't care what you will do to me next. But thank you so much for getting me out of that fucking wheelchair and letting me dance one last time."

**Author's Note:**

> I am not a native English speaker. If you notice any mistakes, please let me know. I desperately want to improve.


End file.
